


catch me, catch me, catch me

by DevilishKurumi



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Archangel!Garrus, Canon-Typical Violence, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Pre-Mass Effect 2, canon compliant AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archangel finds someone else circling the drain in Omega.  (aka: garrus is the big bad bat, and kolyat follows him around until he gets what he (thinks) he wants)</p>
            </blockquote>





	catch me, catch me, catch me

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i SAID this is canon compliant, but honestly i'm not even sure since the archangel arc still has a lot of give. timelines are probably messy, this never actually happened but i don't care, etc etc
> 
> also, while i do write "fights" and "violence" in this, i'm not great at it, so if you're looking for well written action on top of a random rarepair, yoooou are probably out of luck lmao. if you have any pointers or comments i would be happy to have them, since action is something i definitely want to improve on.
> 
> the second half of this is in the process of being written, hopefully it'll be up soon.

            This isn't how Archangel expected to spend his night. He had never expected, creeping along the catwalks of Omega late at night, that he'd stumble on a scene like the one he's watching right now. Whatever conversation had started this particular brawl must've been something pretty aggravating, given the beating the drell seems to have gotten already from the Blood Pack member looming over him. Archangel watches through his scope, waiting for an opening.

            "It's _Kolyat_ ," the drell spits, blood dribbling from his nose, and the hulking krogan standing above him laughs and rumbles with derision. He doesn't care, he says, and that's the sign Archangel needs; this is going to end with somebody dead. It'll most likely be the drell, who maybe deserves it for trying to take a high level member of the Blood Pack on in the first place, but the way Kolyat sneers and clenches his fists reminds him of a whole bunch of people he used to know, and he can hear Shepard's voice in his ear, asking him, _do you have a visual?_

            He has a clear shot, so he takes it. The bullet explodes from his rifle with a sharp, crisp _bang_ , punching through one eye and out the other and dropping the krogan before anyone has time to say anything about it.

            Kolyat, the sharp, stupid kid, is staring right in his direction. He must have seen the muzzle flare. Archangel doesn't think it matters. He rolls easily behind the grating, gripping his rifle in both hands as he pushes back and drops off the narrow ledge and onto some crates. It's three jumps to get to ground; Kolyat is waiting for him when he gets there, pistol drawn and right up in his face. Which... is unexpected. The kid can move, he'll give him that.

            "That's no way to thank someone," he drawls, unable to pull up his rifle without getting his own brains blown out.

            "I could have taken care of him," Kolyat growls. His finger eases on the trigger; Archangel pretends not to notice. "Who do you think you are?"

            "The guy who saved your life," Archangel says, and then he tightens his grip on his gun, throwing all his weight into it as he jabs forward and up. The crack of the stock into the kid's jaw rattles his arms. Kolyat goes down with a yelp, and that gives Archangel enough room to swing the rifle into his arms, cradling it, so used to the feeling that it's second nature. He relaxes his posture even as he points the muzzle right between Kolyat's eyes, staring his stupefied face down through the scope. "But if you _really_ want to test me, kid, I'll put a bullet through your head, too."

            He doesn't even speak; Archangel watches him gape. There's no fire or spit now - just a slowly dawning fear, terribly hidden on his face. He hadn't been prepared for this. Archangel wonders if he's the kind of kid to plan witty one-liners in case he gets the chance to use them in a fight.

            "I'm going to stop pointing my gun in your face now," he says, measuring the words, keeping his voice even, "And you're _not_ going to try to shoot me. Agreed?"

            Kolyat nods, thrown mute. Archangel relaxes and lowers his rifle. After a moment, he even holds out a hand, because that's what Shepard would do, and _someone_ has to do the right thing around here. Kolyat stares at the offered hand like it's poisonous, but he takes it - it's likely he doesn't think he can refuse.

            "I wasn't really going to shoot you," Archangel admits, because he really probably wasn't. It was only a possibility for about half a second there.

            "Then don't point a gun at me," Kolyat snaps, yanking his hand away the second he's on his feet. "Don't pull guns on people you're not willing to kill."

            "So, you _were_ going to shoot me."

            Archangel has never seen a drell blush. It's surprisingly involved; the fringes on his neck flare, just a little, and there's a smudge of color in his face that Archangel can't truly make out in the dim light. It's all the answer he needs.

            "How many people do you expect to kill on Omega before your vacation's over?" he asks, propping his rifle on his shoulder. He doesn't try to hide the derision in his voice; so far, Kolyat's record doesn't seem to be stunning, and he doesn't think he'll be staying around for very much longer.

            The question calms Kolyat down, sort of, though his chest puffs up a little bit like he thinks he's actually hot shit. "How many mercenaries are there?"

            Hm.

            "More than you're gonna know what to do with. Leave the vigilante work to the professionals."

            Kolyat scoffs at him even as he brushes him off, turning with so little care for what Archangel might do that he _almost_ wants to take a potshot at his feet. It would be really funny, at least. But he's got bigger fish to fry and more important people to meet, so he lets the kid dismiss himself. He sort of hopes that Kolyat doesn't start another fight he can't win, but there are a _lot_ of people to look after on Omega. He doesn't have time to worry about one idiotic drell.

            Sidonis's voice crackles in his ear through their secure feed. "Where are you?"

            Archangel rolls his shoulders, taps his visor and heads the opposite direction from Kolyat. "Just had to help a little old Asari across the street, you know how it is."

            Sidonis chuckles. He's got a rasp in his throat that's threatening to turn into a cold, and if that spreads through the rest of their unit, they're going to be miserable for a week, at _least_. "You need to get yourself to the clinic. I don't want you compromising us by sneezing during a stakeout, Lantar."

            "The doctor there gives me the creeps."

            "Doctors are _supposed_ to give you the creeps. That's how they encourage you to not get sick. I'll get you an escort once we put a stop to the deal going down tonight, you big baby."

            "Just keep an eye out until you get here. The Eclipse are getting restless - they've got an eye on every crack in the wall. They know something's up. "

            Archangel grins. "Oh, they have _no_ idea."

 

* * *

 

            There's not much downtime as a vigilante on Omega. Archangel had sort of assumed that starting out, but it gets frustrating once in a while when he can't even do his own shopping. There are some times when he can clearly see the benefits to the C-SEC routine, even if he can't imagine going back to it, and that's usually when he forgets to eat for too long and finds himself with an empty stomach and a long watch ahead of him.

            He shifts his weight to fight off the pins and needles in his left foot and keeps his eye on the small outfit of Blue Suns across the catwalks. He's got them in his sights, but he knows better than to take them all out without trying to get an eye for what they're up to first, so he keeps his finger off the trigger and waits for Butler to get him some audio.

            "So, you _are_ Archangel," says a voice behind him. He whirls, pistol in hand, and the muzzle nearly scrapes across Kolyat's nose before it lands between his eyes. Kolyat doesn't move; for all of the surprise and terror on his face last time, he doesn't look phased to have a gun trained on him now. "I heard rumors he was a turian. "

            "You heard right," he hisses, cautious of even the chance that the Blue Suns down there might hear him in the echoing cavern of the docking bay. He puts his finger on the trigger. Kolyat leans back on his heels to put some distance between himself and the muzzle, but he doesn't look worried about it. "Once is forgivable," he says, "But sneaking up on me twice? That's just _stupid_."

            Kolyat looks past Archangel's shoulder, ignoring him completely, and he _really_ has to take a moment to breathe so he doesn't shoot him out of frustration. The kid's footsteps are light on the catwalk as he maneuvers around Archangel to get a better look, still in a half-crouch just like Archangel is. Now that he's taking a breath, it's kind of a shock to realize that Kolyat _snuck up_ on him. That's twice, now. That's not a good record for either of them to have.

            "You have a perfect view. Why haven't you killed them yet?" Kolyat sounds almost hostile, like he can't see any reason to keep rotten fruit in the barrel. Which isn't a _bad_ attitude to have, necessarily, but it needs to be tempered.

            "Because they're _up_ to something, and I'm trying to find out what. They're not leaving here alive, either way."

            Kolyat doesn't respond. Archangel gives up trying to intimidate him, settling back into his position again, holstering his pistol and lining his rifle up with the head of the engineer gesturing with his hands the most. He looks riled up.

            "I could tell you," Kolyat says after a minute. Archangel rolls his eyes.

            "Look, kid, I already have a full team."

            "Don't flatter yourself," Kolyat scoffs, "I don't want to be on your _team_. I'm just telling you. I could tell you what's going on."

            "You're quiet," he admits, "But you're stupid. I've had my muzzle shoved in your face twice this month, and while _I_ don't plan on shooting you, those guys are a lot less inclined to be merciful."

            "I've only had your gun on me twice because this time, I knew you wouldn't shoot. I'm telling you, I can _easily_ find out what they're saying, _and_ I can give it to you word-for-word."

            "What, because you have a really good memory?" Kolyat looks at him, blinking once, and Archangel lifts a shoulder noncommittally. "Drell might not be _common_ off Kahje, but that doesn't mean I don't know my stuff. I don't need a spy."

            There's a moment of silence, and then Kolyat chuckles.

            "What?"

            "If I wanted to be a spy, I wouldn't be talking to you." He reaches into a pocket and pulls an earpiece out of his pocket. He stares down at it for a moment. "The first thing," he says, sort of distantly, "Is to know your target as if he's you."

            He holds it out in his palm. "Did you bribe someone for some outdated tech?" Archangel snaps under his breath, suddenly aware that their entire conversation could be compromised right now. None of the Blue Suns look their way, but it could be an act.

            "No," Kolyat growls, "I lifted it off _that_ guy." He points at the gesturing engineer, and suddenly his anxious movements make a lot more sense. "He was drunk as shit, and I wasn't."

            "Because they won't serve minors alcohol," Archangel snipes, but he takes the piece anyway.

            "You don't even know how old I am," Kolyat grumbles, even as he sits back on his heels to watch Archangel look over the earpiece.

            "Butler," Archangel says, "I'm going off the line. Sit tight until I contact you."

            "Got it, Vakarian."

            He pulls off his visor, pulling the secure audio link out of its slot. Thankfully, most of this stuff is universal. He doesn't know what he'd do without that nice little loophole.

            "Vakarian?" Kolyat asks as Archangel fits the Blue Sun earpiece into his visor, but he thankfully doesn't continue when Archangel lifts a hand for silence.

            He reaffixes the visor and taps until he hears voices. "--was with me the whole night! He should have seen someone swipe my-"

            Another line, "--New shipment coming in tonight. Gatis, you take three to the lower docks, be there by oh one-hundred. Six of the Blood Pack will meet with you."

            Another, "--Can't trust them, you know that right? The _Blood Pack_ \--"

            Tarak's voice bursts in harsh static. "I don't need your advice. I know what I'm doing."

            Kolyat is keeping a sharp eye on him. He can probably only hear bits and pieces of the conversation through his visor, but that's fine. Archangel drops his hand as he raises the other to press another button, the crackling static fading out just a little.

            "After the drop, we're meeting with Garm. We're taking care of this problem once and for all."

            He knows that this is _big_ , whatever's going on. The three major gangs on Omega have been doing this half-assed alliance thing for long enough that there might actually be some real cooperation going on, and if they're talking about actually _trusting_ each other... That could spell trouble.

            He also knows he can't keep listening - not when he's this close to the very people he's listening in on and one wrong sound could bring them down on him before he'd be able to call for backup. He disengages the piece and replaces it with his own.

            "Nice job, kid," he says, because that's what you're supposed to say.

            "I didn't do it to win points with you," Kolyat replies. "I did it because I could."

            Archangel pauses long enough to say, "Butler. On my mark." Then, he glances to Kolyat, twitching his mandibles. "Just don't get cocky."

            "Like you?" Kolyat's lip quirks upwards briefly, a smirk more than a smile. "Doesn't seem like you thought anyone could sneak up on you."

            Archangel starts, "I don't think," and then stops. "...I could probably be better," he admits.

            "Yeah," Kolyat replies, but he doesn't sound particularly snarky about it. He's looking at the Blue Suns, who seem to have calmed down a little. The poor lighting makes his face look older, somehow, and he looks like he hasn't been happy a day in his life. It's disconcerting. He wonders what happened to make this kid want to kill so many people. He doesn't ask - he's not one to judge - but he can't deny that he's sort of curious.

            "You wanna prove your worth again?" Archangel asks, training his sights on the previously frantic engineer.

            "Not really," Kolyat says. Then, after a moment, he asks, "What do you want me to do?"

            "Get me something to eat. I'm _starving_."

            Kolyat sighs heavily. He doesn't flinch when Archangel pulls the trigger, downing the engineer. Less than a second later, Butler squeezes out from the crates behind the other two Suns as they drop behind the railing for some cover, and one of them says, "Where _is he_?!"

            Butler's pistol sounds out as he puts a bullet in each of their backs. They don't bother leaving anyone alive to relay a warning any more - Archangel knows they'll figure it out.

            "Get it yourself," Kolyat says, standing slowly. His knees crack, and Archangel looks up at him. "People like you around here," he adds, like that's news to anyone. "But I'm not here to be your errand boy."

            "You're the one who came to me," he says.

            "And I'm the one who's leaving first," Kolyat replies. He doesn't disappear into the shadows, which would have been maybe interesting and entirely expected; he just heads off down the catwalk, towards the lower markets.

            "Next time," Archangel calls out to him, "Bring me a drink or something, at _least_!"

 

* * *

 

            Kish tells him, after a week of these on-and-off sightings, that he'd almost taken "that nosy drell" out for sneaking up on him, but Kolyat had asked how Archangel would feel about that. He wound up letting him go.

            "So?" Butler asks, watching the explosions expert cross his arms. "How do we deal with him?"

            "We don't," Archangel sighs. "He's just some kid who needs to wear a bell. He's doing the same thing we are, just on his own, and with a lot fewer results. I checked him out, but there's nothing on the extranet about him outside of public birth records. He doesn't even _have_ a record"

            "He's dangerous," Vashto grumbles, squinting all four eyes up at them from his console.

            "He might be," Archangel says, "But he's on our side for now. Tell him to get lost if he comes around again."

            "You kidding me?" Butler says with a grin, "I'm sending him to you. Take care of your own Robin."

            None of them know what that means, but Butler's amused, so it's probably some human idiom. He uses them a lot and enjoys their confusion, so honestly it's easier not to ask.

            "He's down in Zakera ward," Vashto says. "I just got a visual. You should deal with him before he compromises us."

            "He could be an asset," Sidonis offers.

            Archangel shakes his head. "Like I said - I saw his birth records. He's barely old enough to buy a weapon, let alone old enough to know how to really use one." Reluctantly, he gets to his feet, stretching his arms in front of him one at a time. "It's been fun, but Vashto is right. He needs to keep his distance."

            "I'll get you his address," Vashto says, almost sounding pleased for once. "Looks like he's keeping local."

            Once his omnitool pings him with the appropriate map and address, Archangel heads for the back exit. Sidonis walks with him. "I'm not saying it's a _great_ idea," he says slowly, "But it might help to have another set of hands. At least as a runner - we could use someone capable and willing to supply us during longer operations."

            "I already tried," Archangel admits, "But he told me, he's not trying to be an errand boy. He tried to take down one of Garm's right hand men on his own, which means he's out for blood, not ammunition runs."

            "That was stupid."

            "Yeah. Which is why I'm not thinking of recruiting him. We might need people who are dedicated, but we don't need them if they're stupid."

            Sidonis secures the back exit when Archangel leaves; whether or not he believes what Archangel said, he doesn't try to change his mind. None of them do, really - they make sure he covers all possible contingency plans, but most of the time they don't argue his decisions. It's definitely better than his days in C-SEC.

            It takes him twenty minutes to get to Kolyat's address; he has a lower ward apartment and the maintenance shafts around there are narrower and somewhat harder for Archangel to maneuver through, but he knows that it's important to get this done now, instead of next time he gets snuck up on. That next time might get someone killed.

            Archangel has to actively convince himself that it would be a bad idea to simply drop in through the ventilation shaft into Kolyat's apartment - on the one hand, he really thinks he deserves the chance to get the drop on the obnoxiously sneaky drell, but on the other hand, he might wind up accidentally getting shot. Kolyat strikes him as _just_ paranoid enough to shoot first and not even think about asking questions.

            Besides, he's trying to be polite.

            It's not wise to show his face in lit areas, but he knows his team has someone watching the halls, and the second there's anyone he needs to avoid in the corridor, he'll get notified. So, he winds up approaching Kolyat's apartment by way of the front door. It's not a guarantee that he'll get an answer by just ringing the bell, but it's worth a shot before he simply overrides the locks or winds up using the duct plan.

            The door unlocks, but doesn't slide open. It's smart of him; Archangel guesses that the room beyond will be dark, and when he triggers the hololock and the door slides into the frame, he sees that he's right.

            "I'm not going to shoot you," he calls into the murk, "So you're not going to shoot me. That's the deal, right?"

            Archangel can hear Kolyat shifting in the back, near the dark kitchenette. "For now," he says, sounding cautious; Archangel enters and the door closes behind him, the lights coming up as it locks automatically.

            Kolyat is dressed down from his normal leathers, wearing a tee shirt and a pair of Blasto boxers that are honestly the funniest thing Archangel has seen in a long time. "You're not going to do much against the Blood Pack in that," he comments, and Kolyat's frills briefly flare in indignation.

            "Unlike you, nobody knows me here," he replies. "I don't have to sleep in armor."

            There's something surreal about being inside an average apartment; it's cold, but the heating down here has been spotty for a while, and though it doesn't look like Kolyat's planned to make this a home, there's still a couch and a television. There's even cookware in the kitchen and Garrus assumes a bedroom down the hall. The normalcy disorienting for a moment, but Archangel forces himself past it. "Yeah," he drawls, running his hand along his crest, "About that..."

            "What?"

            Kolyat looks immediately wary, like he wants to go change into his leathers, but Archangel holds up a hand. "Don't get panicked, nobody's coming to get you. But you're starting to make a name for yourself as a nuisance among my unit. It's one thing to harass me, but getting on _their_ case, Kolyat?"

            "I'm not getting on anyone's case," Kolyat snaps, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. "I'm just watching."

            "They've noticed you, which means everyone _else_ is probably noticing you, too."

            "It's a good thing for me that you kill everyone you run into, then, isn't it?"

            Archangel huffs. " _Look_ , Kolyat-"

            "I assumed they would want to know they were being watched," Kolyat says, cutting him off before he can actually do any reprimanding, "But if they don't, that's fine. I've been keeping an eye on you and yours ever since we first met. If you don't want them to see me, I won't let them."

            "I don't want _anyone_ to see you," Archangel growls. "I'm trying to keep _you_ alive too, here. You're quiet, which is good, and you're not short on constitution, which is _also_ good, but we're trying to make a difference here. This isn't something we do for a few hours and then clock out, you know - this is _all_ we do. All the time. And having you observing from time to time, without us being prepared for it? That's going to wind up with someone _dead_."

            Kolyat's fringe flutters again, and his face develops that muddy blush as he scowls. Archangel realizes he sounds a lot like his father, and that's... not what he was expecting to say, exactly. He's suddenly got some idea about what went on in his father's head when _he_ was a teenager. He slumps his shoulders.

            "I'm not your dad," he starts.

            "Oh, you _really_ _aren't_ ," Kolyat growls.

            "...But I'm _Archangel_. Which means I have responsibilities that you're starting to jeopardize. If that keeps being a thing, we aren't going to keep our 'no shooting' arrangement. And I _really_ don't want to kill you."

            "Yeah?" Kolyat says, sounding a lot like he did when Archangel first saw him, full of fire and brimstone. He marches forward, apparently forgetting that he's not exactly in the most intimidating attire, and jabs a finger against Archangel's chestplate, bitter eyes already making him out. "Well, I'm going to do what I want. So unless you're going to shoot me here and now, get the fuck out of here."

            " _Alright_ ," Archangel snarls, because warning and chastising isn't getting him anywhere, so maybe threatening will work. He snags Kolyat's arm in the same breath and throws him towards the door, relying on the lock as Kolyat slams into it with a surprised exhale. Archangel follows tight behind, grabbing his arm again and wrenching it up behind his back, pressing him from cheek to knee into the door. He unholsters his pistol with his free hand and presses the muzzle hard into Kolyat's temple. " _Fine_."

            Kolyat struggles for all of five seconds before he relaxes against the door, breathing hard but steady. "Okay," he says, his voice muffled against the metal.

            "Okay, _what_ ," Archangel growls. He can feel his pulse racing, and for the first time since he got to Omega, he honestly doesn't know if he's going to pull the trigger here or not. He feels like he's overheating in the chilly air, and it's... It's not fun. But it does feel _good_.

            "I'll keep away from your guys," Kolyat mutters, squirming. "Just get off of me."

            "I thought you wanted me to shoot you?" Archangel asks, but already he can feel himself starting to relax, letting up on his grip. He probably won't pull the trigger. Kolyat's practically a civilian, and he has a rule.

            "I wanted to see if you would," he replies. "You didn't. Even though I literally _told you to_."

            "I have _some_ restraint," he says, pulling away at last. Kolyat stays face-first against the door for a moment before turning to lean his back against it. "You're good at pushing buttons, though."

            "It's a way to weed people out," Kolyat says. "I said I'd leave your guys alone, but I'm not going to stop tailing _you_."

            Surprisingly, that doesn't irritate Archangel too much. It puts him on guard, sure - if he's expecting someone friendly to sneak up on him, he might not respond quick enough to someone _unfriendly_ \- but it's at least a good place to start. He can keep out of Kolyat's way pretty easy.

            "You want to follow me?" Archangel asks, holstering his pistol before crossing his arms. "Fine. But there are rules."

            "I thought you weren't my dad?" Kolyat grouses, but there's an amused quirk to his lips.

            "I'm not giving you _chores_ , kid, I'm laying ground rules for your little game. If I tell you to leave, you _leave._ If you see any of my unit with me, you turn the other way. And from now on, stop popping up behind me - I'm going to start shooting when that happens."

            Kolyat purses his lips. "Is that _it_?" he asks. He doesn't sound like he likes any of it.

            " _And_ ," Archangel adds, leaning back on his heels briefly, "You have to tell me why you're so damned intent on putting yourself at the end of my gun. You know what they say - once is an accident, twice is coincidence, but _three times_? That's a pattern."

            "And what if I don't?"

            Archangel shrugs. "Then you never see me again. Trust me on that one."

            Kolyat snorts, but his shoulders slope slightly as he relaxes in pieces, shaking his head and finally pushing away from the door, pacing past Archangel as he makes his way back to his kitchenette.

            "I probably would have been put in the ground if you hadn't shot that krogan," he admits in all reluctance. "Which means I'm not ready to really be _out there_ yet. You're good at what you do, and you're hard to find. Plus, you've already shown me - three times now - that you don't have any intentions on shooting me."

            He doesn't actually _give_ a reason, so Archangel has to extrapolate. "What, then?" he asks. "Am I practice?"

            "I guess."

            He doesn't mean to, but Archangel can't help but put a hand to his gun again. Just in case the next answer isn't satisfactory. It's kind of important. "And if you catch wind of a prize for killing me?"

            Kolyat chuckles. "Are you kidding me? There's already _three_ rewards circulating for your head. If I was gunning for you, we wouldn't _be_ in this situation." He turns, and for a second Archangel thinks he looks hesitant. "Besides. I like what you do. _People_ like what you do. Omega's better off with you alive." He looks towards the couch, sounding distant as he mutters, "You have to pick and choose."

            "What is that?" Archangel asks, dropping his hand to his side. "That... thing you do sometimes. Is that the eidetic memory?"

            "No," Kolyat snorts. "Believe me, when you see one of us overcome by our memories, you'll know it." He crosses his arms again, leaning his hip against the counter. "So what do I get for following all of your rules?"

            Archangel flares his mandibles in a grin. "I'll make finding me _interesting_."


End file.
